“Please, Pres, don’t get into a fight with my father. Just help me talk to him.”
“I will; we’ll call him together. But first I’m calling Nicky. He’s been ringing the house every fifteen minutes, and somebody needs to set him straight. I won’t go over there, but I’m going to have my say. Someday this guy will pay for what he did, but not tonight. What’s his number?”
It was a compromise solution, and Christine accepted it. She gave him the number and grimaced as Preston dialed. What followed was a string of the most vile and threatening language Christine had ever heard from Preston. The message was loud and clear. If Nicky was ever stupid enough to call or contact Christine again, if he even looked at her, Preston would break every bone in his body.
Preston slammed the phone so hard it almost broke. “Okay,” he said, “now let’s deal with Vittie. Where was he when you talked to him?”
“He was still at the office. If you call, Mike Stanley will pick up. He’ll get my father on the phone.”
“Stanley knows what happened?”
“He not only knows, he urged me not to quit. He said Nicky’s going through an emotional time and he needs me in the office. That we should be understanding.”
“Stanley is such an asshole. To hell with both of them.”
Christine sighed and watched Preston dial the office. She knew this was not going to go well, and she was right. Vittie was steadfast in his insistence that Christine stay on the job. He would not countenance a resignation. No matter how much Preston kept insisting and trying to reason with him, he flatly refused to consider it.
“She will be at her desk Monday morning, perform her duties as required, report directly to me each afternoon and that’s final,” Zielinski said. “I will speak to Nicholas. I can assure you that the abuse will stop. You have my word.”
Christine sadly shook her head and wept. “I told you. He’ll never let me leave,” she said. Mimi put an arm around her.
“She’s not going back, Vittie,” Preston said loudly into the phone. “I’m not going to let her.”
“It’s not your decision, young man. It’s hers. There are too many important people involved. They are all relying on Christine to do her job. Let me speak to her.”
Tears were flowing from Christine’s eyes, and she mouthed I can’t.
Preston looked at his wife, he looked at the phone and he exploded. “You’re not going to intimidate her, and you’re not going to put the pressure on her. You’re talking to me, Congressman. Me, Preston Roberts. You’re not going to shame or browbeat my wife into going back to that punk. She’s finished, and if you cared at all about your daughter, you’d know that. Some father you turned out to be. You care more about your stinkin’ defense contractors than your own daughter.”
“How dare you!” he bellowed. “I put Christine in that position because I decided it was an excellent opportunity for her. It’s vitally important to the defense of our country.”
“Who are you kidding, Vittie? You’re talking to me. I see what you’re doing every day. I know each and every one of the millionaires who parade through the office. It’s not for the defense of our country, it’s for the pockets of the millionaires.”
“You better watch yourself, sonny. You have no idea how powerful these people are. They depend on Christine, and she will not disappoint them. Or me. It’s a matter of national security, and Christine has been privy to highly classified information. She will not quit her job. I said I would speak to Nicholas, and that should be sufficient.”
Preston was enraged. “Well, it’s not, Mr. Bigshot. I’m not letting her go back to some guy who punched her in the face, and if you or any of your so-called powerful people bother us anymore, I’m going straight to the Tribune. I don’t want your damn money; I don’t want your fancy cars or your tickets. You can take it all back! Chrissie’s not going back to that asshole, and if you give me any more trouble, I’m going to the newspaper and I’ll tell them everything I know—and I know plenty.”
Preston hung up the phone and put his arms around his sobbing wife. “It’ll be okay,” he said.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
CHICAGO
ALBANY PARK NEIGHBORHOOD
DECEMBER 1965
The Tribune’s front page displayed a six-column photo beneath the headline 1ST INFANTRY BOLSTERS FIGHTING FORCE IN VIETNAM. The photo depicted hundreds of green-clad soldiers disembarking a landing craft in Cam Ranh Bay. Mimi shuddered as she edited a story about Viet Cong guerrillas setting fire to an Esso oil storage tank in Da Nang. Her desk phone rang. It was Christine, and she was frantic.
“Meems, you’ve got to help me. I can’t handle it. I can’t deal with it. I’m losing my mind.”
“Calm down, Chrissie. What’s wrong?”
“Everything. It’s Preston. It’s my father. I need to talk. Can you meet me?”
“I get off work in half an hour. I’ll meet you at home.”
Christine was already at the kitchen table when Mimi walked in the house. Her face was red; her jaw was quivering.
“What happened?” Mimi said.
“You know I haven’t been back to work in a week, not since Nicky slugged me. Since then, my father’s been all over me. He calls the house every night. He tells me that he talked to Nicky and nothing like that will ever happen again. But Preston put his foot down, and he won’t let me go back.”
“I don’t understand your father. Why wouldn’t he protect his own daughter?”
“It’s all about the contractors, his business associates, the rich men he hangs around with. They want me in the office watching over Nicky and reporting back to them. They say they don’t trust Nicky, and who could blame them?”
“Why don’t they just stop doing business with Nicky and use some other shipping company?”
Christine hung her head. “Meems, it’s not that simple. Nicky knows too much about the operation. They can’t afford to cut him out. He’s an asshole to me and probably to his wife, but to my father’s associates he’s essential. Mimi, the large amounts of cash—it all funnels through Nicky.”
“What happened today?”
“My father came into town two days ago. He left Washington and a committee meeting just to come in and pressure me. He said he wants to set up a meeting between Nicky and me and he’ll be there to make sure everything works out. He wants to meet tomorrow night. I can’t do it. Even if I could, Preston won’t let me.”
“Where is Preston?”
“At the office. He’s taking a lot of crap, too, but he loves me so much, he’s not letting my father bully me.”
“Preston still has a job?”
“He won’t lose his job. He knows too much. Everybody knows too much. My father is trying to put a lid on a boiling pot. He’s trying to put everything back the way it was a month ago, but too much has happened. Anyway, Preston will not let me meet with Nicky, and he refuses to let me go back to work.”
“Chrissie, I feel so bad for you. What can I do?”
“Just be my friend. Everything is so tense at my father’s office. There are several men over there right now. Preston says he overheard a lot of shouting.”